


The Sweater of Wrath

by TheSprout



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 16:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSprout/pseuds/TheSprout
Summary: Yuri tended to yell at everyone for everything and Otabek loved him anyway, but one day Yuri simply went too far.





	The Sweater of Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> Very late but this is my work for the [YOI anniversary countdown](https://yoianniversary.tumblr.com/) day 6 : Relationships, hope you enjoy :)

Otabek dropped his bag on the doormat and kicked off his shoes. He heard the door of the bedroom open and winced when he saw Yuri’s cheeks, bright red with anger.

“Yura please…” Otabek whispered, as if asking gently could stop the outburst. 

“I FUCKING MISSED IT!” Yuri shouted across the room, “THE SALE OF THE CENTURY!”

Otabek slowly walked in the studio and took off his jacket. Yuri’s loud voice made his ears pulse and his brain ache. He sighed slightly.

“I said I was sorry…”

“Do you know how many of these sweaters exist? Now I’ll have to get the normal one and everybody will have the red one and I’ll be FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”

“I sent you a text…”

“BULLSHIT!”

“I did!” Otabek insisted helplessly, “I told you I wouldn’t make it on time. I was busy all night and… ”

“I don’t GIVE A SHIT! It’s TOO LATE now you can GO FUCK YOURSELF AND DIE!”

Yuri’s words resonated in the apartment and there was a moment of silence as the air froze between them. The expression on Otabek’s face changed and Yuri understood he had crossed the line. A cold shiver ran down his spine as Otabek’s impassive traits became a marked frown and his jaw clenched tightly. It was a face Yuri had never seen and he felt goosebumps spread on his skin under the threatening dark glare.

“I’m done,” Otabek said coldly as he turned around to take his jacket.

“No wait!” Yuri gasped.

Otabek grabbed his phone and his wallet from the counter and put them in the back pocket of his jeans as he walked to the door.

“Beka!”

The door flew open and Otabek briefly turned around in the doorway, the hand on the handle. 

“I’ve slept four hours in the last two days, we’re having legal trouble at the club, I’ve not seen my parents in over a year and yesterday someone keyed my bike. You know all of this but you still throw me a tantrum over a sweatshirt when I come home. I’m twenty-five, I’m tired of living with a teenager. I just wanted to sleep but I guess I’ll go fuck myself.”

The door slammed loudly behind him and Yuri felt each of his bones vibrate with the sound. He could not remember hearing Otabek say that many words in one go. His deep voice echoed in Yuri’s brain and did not seem to fade.

Yuri stood alone in their studio for long minutes. He faced the door, unconsciously hoping for it to open again and erase the scene that had just happened. He slowly walked the three steps to the couch and let himself fall on a cushion as he hid in face in his hands. He was shaking with emotion and still could not believe what he had just done, even after rubbing his face with his palms vigorously. He almost went to take his phone but did not. No text could arrange this situation. Thinking a few hundred characters could be enough of an excuse would only make it worse.

He waited tensely all evening, in hopes that Otabek had just gone for a ride and would come back before the night, but at 3am he still lay by himself in their double bed. He checked his phone once again to make sure a had no new message, but he could only read Otabek’s last text. “Yura, I need to stay at work a bit longer, I won’t be home on time, I’m sorry. Go without me and we’ll go out for dinner tonight?” Yuri blinked at the bright screen for long minutes and eventually fell asleep, exhausted by the stress and shivering under the thick blanket. 

When he woke up the next morning Yuri had a brief second of sweet bliss, a fragile bubble of sleepy love that had him turn around to nest against his other half. He found a cold pillow and wrinkled sheets and almost cried. Yuri was used to going to sleep without Otabek, he often worked all night at the club, but Yuri was also used to feeling Otabek sneak beside him in the bed when the early morning lights pierced through the blinds. 

He got ready absent-mindedly, putting his sweater on backward twice and casually dropping seven sugar lumps in his coffee. He barely heard Victor’s comments during his terrible training session at the rink and shrugged when he was asked what was wrong. When he came back home he nonchalantly wandered in the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen, just in case someone was there. No one was there. Everything seemed abnormally empty and quiet without Otabek. He contemplated skipping lunch and going back to bed forever, but he still had to go to the gym at 3pm, and the workout would be less annoying than the rant Victor would have if he did not show up. 

Yuri was mechanically eating a plate of bland half-cooked pasta when realization hit him and he let his fork clink loudly against the plate as it fell off his hand. He rushed to the bathroom again, and then to the bedroom, where he yanked the top part of the chest of drawers open and gasped in panic.

 

“Maybe he just stepped in water with his socks on this morning,” Yuuri shrugged. “You’ll see this afternoon but it’s probably nothing.”

“I’m telling you he was really not okay,” Victor insisted, “I asked for a lutz and he did an axel Yuuri, how can you be so distracted you don’t even jump facing the right direction?”

“Last time something was wrong he was pissed because the store was out of his usual cat food.”

Victor was about to argue but someone knocked at the door and Yuuri went to open without hearing any more of it. 

Behind the door stood Yuri, still in his morning training gear and looking like he had skipped his post workout shower. Yuuri understood what Victor meant by “really not okay”. Yuri’s porcelain skin was almost translucent and his eyes stayed wide open as if he had forgotten how to blink. 

“Victor can drive you to the gym but we were not expecting you before 2:30 Yuri…”

Yuuri could have slapped himself for saying something so cold and flat when Yuri was obviously not there for a workout. It however soon appeared that the young man had not heard a single word as he looked at up and his bottom lip quivered before distorting in a whimper.

“Katsudon I fucked up,” he said as he walked in, crashed against Yuuri’s chest, and hugged his waist weakly.

In a strange reflex Yuuri hugged him back in a tight embrace and brushed his hair off his face.

“Yuri what’s wrong?”

“He took his sweater and… his socks and his shoes and he… and he took his toothbrush,” Yuri sobbed. 

Yuuri looked over his shoulder to see if Victor had heard what Yuri had just said. Victor’s serious frown showed that he had, and he moved to close the front door as Yuuri walked Yuri to the couch.

Whatever proud disinterest or cool attitude Yuri always tried to maintain had been reduced to ashes the moment he had crossed the door. He wept on Yuuri’s laps and the couple tried to understand what had happened as he mumbled incoherent words and gestured vague explanations. 

“He works all night and… the sweater but… was tired because I don’t let him... and mad at me and then… I came home… and he took his toothbrush...”

It took a whole poodle-shaped box of tissues, two cups of tea and a half a dozen of muffins for Victor and Yuuri to finally understand the story. 

It appeared that Otabek had promised Yuri they would go shopping together on a special event in Yuri’s favorite shop, but he had eventually been too busy at work to keep his word and make it on time. Stressed and tired, he had not been able to put up with Yuri’s millionth anger fit and had left. He had come back in the morning while Yuri was at the rink to take his things, and Yuri had returned home to empty drawers and cleared bathroom shelves. 

Victor and Yuuri wordlessly agreed to let Yuri stay with them for a few days, at least until they could figure out what Otabek was up to. Victor drove to his student’s apartment to pick up clothes and toiletries and Yuuri made the bed in the guest room.

 

Yuri had barely said a word after he had stopped crying and slowly ate dinner, keeping his head down and his face hidden behind his hair. He knew he should be ashamed for crawling miserably to Victor and Yuuri for comfort, but he did not really care anymore. They could think whatever they wanted, it was the least of his worries. He went to bed early, turning down the couple’s offer for movie night and refusing a last cup of tea a bit too aggressively.

 

He felt absolutely terrible. He had not spent a night without Otabek in over a year, and knowing he had been the one to push their couple over the edge made him hate himself more than he ever had. Yuri was used to a lot of negative emotions. He was always angry, often bitter, and sometimes upset, he knew how to deal with stress and had learned how to make it through sadness and disappointment, but no one had ever taught him how to live with guilt. He could feel it crush his heart through his ribs and it made it hard for him to breath. He caught himself thinking that he would rather break his wrist again a million times than suffer the pain in his chest any longer. He wished he could go back in time forty-eight hours and see the signs he had ignored out of self-centeredness. He wished he could welcome Otabek home with a hot cup coffee and a warm place next to him in the bed. Tell him he would support him at work and buy plane tickets to go see his parents in the summer. Help him get his motorcycle fixed. Respect his sleep schedule and give him more time to rest. 

Yuri got lost in the crippling thoughts of the things he should have done and felt himself slowly drift to sleep, when a strange noise disturbed his foggy mind. He ignored it, yawned, and turned on his pillow, but he heard it again after a minute. This time he opened his eyes and quailed slightly at the idea that had just bloomed in his head. He got confirmation only a few seconds later when the noise echoed in the walls a third time. It was a giggle. And not an innocent one. 

Yuri roared, grabbed his pillow, and jumped up. He ran to the next bedroom and violently kicked the door open with his heel. There was a moan in the dark, then a yelp and the quick rumple of the sheets, and Victor eventually turned on the bedside lamp. Yuri felt his rage burn in his veins at the sight of the couple, flushed and short of breath, their legs still tangled under the covers.

“HOW DARE YOU !?” he yelled dramatically, “I’m in dire straits suffering a terrible loss and you make me listen to your disgusting happy couple life!”

Yuuri was beet red but Victor had a serious frown.

“Yuri, this is our place and our bedroom, we still have the right to do it here. And you’re twenty-two so get earplugs if you can’t sleep but don’t pretend it’s not normal.”

“I don’t fucking care, if I’M not getting any, NO ONE IS!”

“What?” Victor and Yuuri gasped together, and they flinched when Yuri threw his pillow between the two of them and climbed in the middle of the bed.

“Wow wow wow!” Yuuri exclaimed as he hastily jumped up and grabbed his briefs on the ground to try and cover himself. “Yuri this is not okay!”

But Yuri was already pulling the blanket over him and fluffing his pillow in place. “I need calm and comfort and I get nothing if I let you two alone, I’m not leaving!”

Victor had not moved an inch and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“I’ll take the guest room for tonight,” he said bitterly as he sat up and picked up his sweatpants and his pillow.

“But…” 

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Victor cut sharply, his eyes almost black in the dim light. 

“Victor wait,” Yuuri insisted, “do you want me to…?” 

“I’M GONNA THROW UP!” Yuri shouted in his pillow. 

Victor clenched his fists and left with a growl. Yuuri put on his underwear and a shirt before sitting on the bed next to Yuri. After a minute he lay back down and turned off the bedside lamp. 

“Katsudon?” Yuri whispered in the dark moments later.

“Yuri?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Do you need another blanket?”

“Can you touch my hair?”

“What?”

“Please… I’m sad.”

Yuuri paused, sighed softly in resignation, and extended his arm to run his fingers through the ends of Yuri’s locks until he could hear his breathing calm down.

 

The next morning Yuri earned a downright sadistic practice session at the rink with a highly frustrated Victor and almost regretted his behavior. During lunch Victor and Yuuri put their forks and knives down at the same time and solemnly said that they needed to talk to him.

“Yuri,” Victor began, “You can stay here as long as you want, and we’ll help you try to patch things up with Otabek.”

“But it’s a lost cause if you keep flaring up like yesterday, and neither us nor Otabek will stand for this any longer.” Yuuri finished. 

“Beka loves me the way I am.”

“I’m sure he does, but you tired him out.”

“And the way you walked into our room yesterday is unacceptable,” Victor added.

“Your lewdness is unacceptable,” Yuri spat. 

“Are you giving up on your couple just because you want to keep screaming at people whenever you want?” Yuuri asked, incredulous.

“It’s not whenever I want, it’s when no one listens!”

“Yuri, we do listen to you it’s just…”

“No you don’t! Even Beka doesn’t, he’s always at the club or outside or sleeping and it’s like he doesn’t even hear me!”

“He doesn’t listen?” Yuuri frowned.

Yuri was embarrassed. He twisted his fingers together between his knees.

“I don’t... I don’t really try to talk about stuff very often.” He lowered his head so his hair would hide the dark blush on his cheeks and pouted sheepishly. “Beka isn’t exactly talkative.”

Victor and Yuuri looked at each other in stupefaction. 

“You two have been living together for over a year and you don’t… talk?” Victor asked.

“You just keep everything for yourself and when you can’t anymore you scream it out,” Yuuri nodded in understanding.

“Of course we talk! We talk about skating and the dishes and if it’s cold outside…”

Yuuri bit his lip in compassion and Victor wrapped an arm around his husband’s waist. They looked at Yuri with fond empathy. 

“What?” Yuri frowned, suddenly weirdly self-conscious.

“Victor,” Yuuri asked, “what did you do when I accidentally bought the wrong brand of shampoo?”

“I told you I was hurt that you had taken the decision to change something in our domestic routine without consulting me first, and that I liked the other shampoo better but I could do with the new one if you preferred it, because I love you and we sometimes have to make compromises.”

Yuuri pinched his lips and looked at Yuri to clarify his point.

“There’s a balance between never expressing your feelings and talking about how the new shampoo is a test for your couple for two and a half hours.”

“It was hair loss shampoo,” Victor blurted. 

“Sometimes you have to tell Otabek how you feel,” Yuuri resumed, “It doesn’t mean you have to do it every time or talk a lot, just sometimes. Find what works for you two.”

“I’m not taking relationship advice from someone who married an idiot after twenty-three years of single life.”

“Just think about it,” Yuuri said.

“Keep it up and you’re sleeping on the doormat,” Victor warned.

Yuri hissed and left to hide away in his room. 

 

That afternoon Victor used his well-filled address book and made a few phone calls to carefully selected acquaintances. Yuuri always found surprising how easy it was to get what he wanted after saying “Hi, it’s Victor Nikiforov”. He however cringed badly when he heard “We met at the Moby Dick, remember? Silver hair, gold medal? Yeah.” and “Thanks but I’m married now… No, I don’t think he’d like that.” 

According to the nightlife enthusiasts Otabek had been seen the day before at a small bar on the outskirts of the city and could now be sleeping on the couch of one of his colleagues, or staying with a friend he knew from a club he had worked at before. Victor eventually managed to narrow down the possibilities and get the right number. He called and the man who picked up made it very clear he had just been woken up and would not try to be helpful in any way.

“Altin?.. Maybe he showed up at my place yesterday but you know what, man? His relationship is none of my business, I just let him crash here because that’s cool and he’d do it for me too, no questions asked. He’ll decide himself when he wants to go back.”

 

“TELL ME WHERE HE IS AND TAKE ME THERE!” Yuri shouted as soon as Victor said he had found Otabek. 

“Yuri you can’t just…” 

“TAKE ME THE FUCK THERE!”

“You’re doing it again,” Yuuri pointed out.

“WHAT?”

“What’s your plan? Get there, scream at him again and hope somehow this time it’ll make him come back?”

Yuri was still mad but did not say anything more. After a minute of reflection he realized he was having a terrible internal conflict not to admit the reason of his anger. Victor and Yuuri observed him silently as he sat down on the couch and hid his face in his hands. 

“I don’t want him to spend the night with another man,” he mumbled. 

Yuuri sat beside him.

“That’s a legitimate reason to be upset,” he said softly. “But you know I don’t think Otabek left to see other men. He just needed a bit of time for himself.”

“But what if he does?”

“Yuri, you slept in my bed yesterday and I was still in it.”

“Like someone would cheat with you.”

“I feel like I should be offended.”

“I’m offended,” Victor said.

“What if he finds someone else and leaves me forever?” Yuri whined.

Victor brought a new box of tissues and Yuuri filled up the teapot. 

“He’ll come back Yuri, and you’ll be ready for a fresh start when he does.”

 

Yuri spent a week at Yuuri and Victor’s apartment. He would never admit it but he discovered that Yuuri was right, and that there was almost always a deeper reason to the tantrums he threw over absurd details. Sometimes it was frustration, sometimes self-doubt, often it was because he felt sad and most of the time because he missed Otabek. He realized it was okay to say when he was upset, and that people could understand how he felt without making fun of him. At first it seemed ridiculous to acknowledge that he was mad because he felt like he was not good enough during practice, or to confess he felt lonely even living with Victor and Yuuri, but over time it became easier and made his life less stressful.

On the seventh day someone knocked at the door and Victor went to open. Otabek stood in the hallway and scratched the back of his head uneasily.

“Hi, erm… I went home but Yuri wasn’t there, I thought maybe…”

He was not able to finish his sentence before Yuri pushed Victor out of the way and jumped on his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his hips. 

“Beka I’m sorry please don’t leave, I’m a piece of shit but I need you...”

Otabek hugged Yuri back and hid his nose under his hair in the crook of his neck.

“Come home with me.”

Yuri did not need to be asked twice. He gathered his things hastily, muttered awkward thanks to Victor and Yuuri for having him over for a week and left with Otabek.

 

They needed to talk about everything but for a long moment Yuri and Otabek did not say a word. Their hungry kisses, their impatient lips, their burning fingers, everything between them screamed their stinging need for intimacy. Otabek pushed Yuri in the living room and lifted him up against the wall, holding him under his thighs to let him hook his legs around his waist. He kissed Yuri’s neck and collarbones greedily and rested his forehead against his chest to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry I left Yura, it was stupid.”

Yuri caught Otabek’s face in his hands so he would look up. 

“You took your stuff and everything…” Yuri whispered. The look in his eyes was still shocked and wounded. The tips of his fingers brushed against Otabek’s cheeks and Otabek gently kissed the palm of his hand as to ask for forgiveness.

“My friends don’t have guest towels.” 

“I wanted to spend time with you and you didn’t show up... I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“What?”

“When I screamed at you. It was… not for the sweater… maybe not. I know you’re busy but I felt… left out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so stressed?”

“I thought you already knew.”

“And I just ignored it? Beka, I don’t want you to leave again it fucking sucked, we gotta talk about these things,” Yuri said, and he lowered his head to press a hot and vehement kiss on Otabek’s lips.

 

Truth be told, it felt weird the first time Otabek opened up and told Yuri something he would usually have kept for himself, even though Yuri had been working hard for it. It was on the couch, as they were watching cartoons and snacking on piroshkis for dinner. Otabek ate very little and at one point put his piroshki down on the tray and pressed pause on the TV remote.

“Yura,” he said tensely, carefully picking his words, “you know I love you, right? I love you more than anything.”

“Are you proposing? I’m not wearing pants!”

Otabek turned a bright shade of pink.

“No I just… Listen, I love when you cook, I really do, but I don’t know what you put in these… It’s absolutely disgusting.”

Yuri’s smile faded. His mouth opened slightly and his lips trembled.

“My grandpa used to make them just like that…”

Otabek winced so hard he felt his teeth grind and had to cover his face with his hand. 

“Yura I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have said that, it was ridiculous I…”

He stopped in confusion when Yuri grinned with sparkly eyes. 

“Just kidding Beka, I’ve been making disgusting stuff for like a week to see how long you’d wait to tell me you didn’t like them.”

“What’s this?”

“Canned fish jelly and sprouts,” Yuri said. “Coriander. Cinnamon.”

“You ate three…”

Yuri shrugged and leaned forward to wrap his arms around Otabek’s neck. 

“We’re getting better at this,” he sighed contentedly.

They hugged tightly, enjoying the warm and comforting touch in the quiet night. After a moment Otabek lifted his chin off Yuri’s shoulder and frowned.

“Yesterday’s meat pâté was rather okay.”

Yuri tightened his embrace and hid his face in Otabek’s neck.

“Cat food.”

 

Their communication was not the best and they sometimes ended up taking shortcuts that surely did not help improve their talks, but still brought their couple closer together. This is what happened when Yuri’s shouts resonated in the rink one morning and drew the attention of the other skaters. Some of them had compassionate looks for Otabek, who had barely uttered a word and impassively endured Yuri’s ire as he finished tying his shoelaces behind the barrier. Everybody heard the sweet collection of obscenities Yuri yelled, and saw Otabek shrug and leave to the locker room. Yuri followed him angrily and Victor and Yuuri looked at each other. 

“Victor do something,” Yuuri said nervously, “I’m not doing it a second time.”

“Why me?”

“Do you want to be kicked out of your own bed again?” 

Victor walked in the locker room but found no one, and so headed to the men’s bathroom. He straightened up and pushed the door open with determination. He thought it was empty but heard muffled sounds in the back of the room. Something bright caught his attention above the farthest shower stall. He squinted and then raised his eyebrows high behind his fringe. As strange as it looked, what he saw was the tip of Yuri’s sneaker peaking above the partition, and chances were, he was not alone in there. Victor rarely felt embarrassed but this time no self-confident smile or shiny hair flip could erase the thought that went through his mind. The door of the stall shook, there was a light chuckle and Victor left hastily, unwilling to know more.

“It’s okay, they’re making up,” he simply said when he walked back to Yuuri.

“I’m so glad they learned how to talk to each other. How to have an open-hearted conversation, put theirs feelings into words... You know I feel like we really helped them improve their relationship. It’s so important to be able to tell your partner how you feel, I don’t know how I’d have done with you if I couldn’t share my emotions and…”

Yuuri stopped when he saw that Victor seemed distracted, looking at him without really seeing him and pressing a long finger against his lips.

“Victor? Are you still listening?”

“Can you still lift your leg in a full split?”

“Yeah but…”

“Let’s go home, we need to talk about our feelings.”

 

In the following weeks Yuri and Otabek had ups and downs, but they tried to make it work. Yuri still yelled every now and then, but hardly ever against Otabek, and never when he was resting after work. Shouting “I CAN’T LAND THAT FUCKING LUTZ” was not as stress-relieving as “EAT SHIT AND DIE VICTOR”, but it sure brought him less trouble. Otabek gave up some of his shifts to other DJs and shared the paperwork of the club with a colleague. They made plans for the holidays. Yuri would rather die than tell him, but Yuuri had once again done his pork cutlet magic and made his life better. 

 

Yuri and Otabek spent the next summer in Almaty. Living with Otabek’s family, Yuri was exceptionally quiet and polite, to the point that Otabek was not sure he was even the same person. Yuri had never been in Kazakhstan and they spent most of their holidays exploring the country, wandering in national parks and visiting cities. They were in the old town in Almaty when they walked by a dusty thrift shop. It was almost already out of sight behind them when Otabek stopped and turned to Yuri.

“Yura.”

“What?”

“Yuuuura.”

“Eww you sound like the old man.”

“You saw it.”

Of course he had seen it, it was in the middle of the window display in the thrift shop. Bright red, brand new with the price tag and the original silver sticker. The exclusive collection, limited edition sweater Yuri had almost gone single for. Someone surely bought it knowing it would be easy money to resell it after the end of the restricted stock.

“Go for it,” Otabek said.

Yuri shook his head quickly. He did not want to think about this story again. He did not want to fall back in his impulsive habits. 

“Why?”

“Because of this I… I mean I’m over it, I don’t want new problems.”

Otabek hugged him. 

“It was not about the sweater, and if anything it helped us in the end.”

Yuri shrugged and stayed in his arms, unwilling to take the slightest risk of ruining months of effort.

“I’ll buy it for myself then,” Otabek said.

“It’s not even your size.”

“I know, that’s a shame, it’ll stay in my drawer, too small to be worn…”

“I’ll propose but you need to promise you’ll say yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had lots of ideas for this fic but had trouble putting them in a coherent story, hence my lateness for the countdown. I hope it was ok anyway.
> 
> Want to read more Otayuri fluff? [5000 words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12116415) [2200 words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096324)
> 
> Come and see me on [Tumblr](https://dontstopyurinow.tumblr.com/) I'd love to hear from you!


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